Is road rage curable?

If you're doubting that human beings are inherently sinful, look no further than your nearest freeway on-ramp or busy intersection to confirm the worst. There's rarely a day that goes by that you won't see someone driving who is impatient, selfish, or just plain stupid, and it's a constant struggle to keep a good attitude. I live in Colorado Springs, where the traffic is fairly mild and my commute to work consists of only hopping two exits north on the Interstate, and yet I feel the constant battle of finagling my way around town without getting offended or frustrated.

With the exception of perhaps the Internet (okay, and maybe reality shows), people seem to be at their worst when behind the wheel. And I have to admit, I am probably the chief sinner, second only to the guy in the supped-up Subaru who cut me off on the way to the gym the other day. But seriously, I see the worst sides of myself come out when dealing with other cars on the road. It's not just the purposely rude and selfish people who irritate me, it's also the spaced-out ones who seemed to notice at the last minute that they had to merge into my lane. Or it's the woman who is applying mascara and apparently giving herself a full makeover instead of pressing down on the accelerator once the light turns green. 

I'm not the type of person who gets angered easily...except when it comes to other drivers. Perhaps all of the frustrations of the day or week are channeled into this one area of my life, and then poof! something just sets me off. I don't cuss them out or make rude gestures. Instead, I seethe inside of the confines of my vehicle, shouting to no one in particular, "People are such morons! Ugh!" On other days, my outburst may be a bit tamer, where I resort to sarcastic comments like, "Calm down there, Zippy" or "That has to be the ugliest car I have ever seen."  Never mind that the other driver can't hear me -- or that I don't drive the most beautiful of cars -- I suppose I must feel that by making a snide comment I can somehow get back at them.

The severity of my insults tends to coincide with my overall stress level for that day. And it begs the question, if I am getting upset with total strangers for just being imperfect humans, what is going on in my heart? In the Gospel of Matthew, it states "For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks." If that's the case, I have a much bigger problem than a mini-van cutting me off outside the church parking lot (although, isn't that discouraging? Really, people!).  

I used to sport a Christian fish symbol on the back of my car. I think it might have made me more accountable. I'm not exactly sure why we Christians like slapping fish, doves, and bumper stickers about the rapture on our vehicles -- maybe it's so we feel like we belong or we just need to take a stand for what we believe in some way. And while I doubt many have gotten saved by reading a sign on a person's car, it does identify you to the rest of the world as one of those "Christians." Yet many Christians refuse to identify themselves in such a way. I started hearing, "I don't have a fish symbol on my car because I speed so much" or because "I'm kind of a crazy driver." Last I checked, Christians don't go to a special driving school to become better drivers than the rest of the world. They're just people...but don't we expect them to be the models of perfection? I get way angrier when I get cut off by a vehicle displaying a bright yellow Q102.7 (our Christian radio station) sticker than I do a car without one.

If I'm honest, I'm not always the most considerate or attentive driver myself. I sometimes take a while to step on the gas because I'm daydreaming, and I do change lanes at the last minute because I wasn't thinking ahead. I expect people to extend grace to me, but do I always extend it back to them? Sometimes, yes. I should know this better than most people because of my job, but there are a lot of hurting people out there, and who knows what form of hell on earth they are experiencing. Maybe they're barely hanging by a thread emotionally, mentally, or spiritually, and all we can see from our perspective is a stupid driver. Not that this should excuse bad behavior, but it should make you think twice before you jump to conclusions and insult their car.

The stress snowball

A funny thing happens when I start getting stressed out about life -- I get busier. Everyone copes with stress differently, but I try to avoid dealing with it by filling my schedule with other things. For some reason, I must think that by distracting myself with other tasks, I will feel better. You can tell where this is going -- then I get even more overwhelmed, and the stress starts snowballing. When I start cutting down on the time in which I could recharge and spend time with God, then the snowball suddenly picks up more momentum. It's only a matter of time until it crashes at the bottom of the mountain and then explodes into frozen smithereens.

I find myself in the midst of an utter meltdown and wonder how I got to this point again. Haven't I learned yet from the many previous snowball-exploding experiences in my life? My friend recently observed that I do "fine" for a long time, and all of a sudden I realize things are out of my control. It's my human nature that wants to avoid these problems, rather than face them. It seems easier at the time to "busy" yourself instead of working through the stress and emotional turmoil staring you down.

Another contributing factor could be that I cringe at the thought of showing these true emotions to others -- an ironic problem because my meltdowns often take place in the presence of others, much to my chagrin (no one really wants to start crying in a meeting room at work, do they?). I'm still working through the faulty mindset of maintaining an emotional lockdown and not allowing others to see how overwhelmed I am. My mom loves to compare stuffing emotions to stuffing garbage down in a dumpster -- it's only a matter of time before the stench starts seeping out.

The common advice would be to "nip it in the bud," but it's become so natural for me, that I don't even realize when it is budding. Perhaps I can aim toward nipping it in the early blooming stages first, with the hope of nipping the bud eventually.It's got to be a day-to-day, moment-to-moment decision to be conscious of my stress level -- and to pray, journal, and talk to others about it as needed. It's a fine line between confiding in others and dumping your junk on them, but it's important to find the balance. 

Right now I am in the midst of a very busy time, and I love it and hate it at the same time. Why I have I not blogged since August? Because in August we started a crazy schedule of training at work, and it just sapped my energy. I entered into maintenance mode. I suddenly became forgetful about ridiculous things. About a month ago, I decided I wasn't going to allow my job to drain me this much. I made up my mind, from that point forward, to reconnect with one of my friends once a week. This has been wonderful, but it has also been challenging. I want to invest in relationships and life in general, not just survive at work. However, I can't do it all. So I must risk disappointing people at times, and learning to say no when I don't necessarily want to.

Strangely enough, I feel quite peaceful -- at the moment. However, in the next month, I have an insane number of things going on. My Colorado history class, while fascinating, is demanding a lot more time than I anticipated. I'm going to three weddings, three weekends in a row...one of which is in Guatemala. Of course, that also means three bridal showers to attend and three wedding gifts to purchase! At work, there's a lovely collision of several major projects coming at the same time our team is half-staffed. I don't think I've ever seen such a "perfect storm" brewing at my job. It's quite daunting. So how am I going to face all of this craziness? I suppose it will be the same amazing way I have been getting by for the past two months. 

One day at a time, I see God sustaining me in miraculous ways -- renewing my resolve, filling me with hope and perspective, bringing me encouragement from unexpected places. I really can't do this in my own strength, and I need wisdom to know what to do and when to do it. So far, I feel very peaceful considering the circumstances -- I'm not sure how God does this, but I'm grateful for it. And I'm at least trying to figure out ways to nip the stress in the proverbial bud, like exercising more and spending time writing. 

Right now, I'm listening to the "most relaxing music in the world." I know this because that is the title of the CD I bought from the dollar store last week. This of course is nice, but probably the best way for me to tackle stress in my life is to just have a better understanding (and acceptance) of my limitations. Oh, how glorious that would be...and how utterly terrifying. 

A season to say goodbye

This week marks a momentous time in the history of our family. Yesterday my aunts and uncles moved my grandma from her home of 53 years in Moscow, Idaho, to a retirement home in West Seattle. Grandma's been excited about this for quite a while, and I can't blame her. Since Grandpa passed away in April 2009, she's been alone in that house and many of her friends are no longer there to keep her company.

In fact, Grandma seems to be doing better with this transition from the rest of us. Before I went to the house last week to visit for the last time and to help pack, I dreaded that trip more than I ever have before. It practically was like a funeral, and I found myself grieving just as much as I did when I said goodbye to Grandpa. As I walked in the back door, roamed around the basement, and slept in the little bedroom, memories from the past 31 years came flooding back to me at an overwhelming pace. To me and many of my relatives, this was not just a house made of cement and wood, it was a source of comfort and stability -- always knowing that no matter what chaotic things were going on in your own life, you could come back to this place and feel at home.

Growing up in the town of Moscow, my cousin Amanda and I recently mused, we didn't realize how good we had it. To me it's the kind of all-American small town that you read about in books, and I thought this was normal as a kid. In the fall, the proliferation of maple trees paint the town rich hues of gold and red, and in the spring, East City Park hosts the Renaissance Fair (which was really only a small craft and food fair, but full of fun memories). My mom would usually take me to my grandparents' neighborhood for trick-or-treating on Halloween, since it increased my likelihood of yielding plenty of candy treasure. My cousins and I spent hours at Grandma and Grandpa's house, playing dress-up, working on jigsaw puzzles, and playing the "Marble Game" and "King's Corners."

Once we moved to Colorado when I was 13, visiting Moscow during summer and Christmas vacations was a treat, and it made the house even more precious to me. My grandmother has always been the consummate entertainer and hostess, so every day (not just holidays) was made special and usually involved an assortment of sweets. My family and I recently joked that when you go to Grandma's house, you immediately start craving cookies -- it's like a Pavlovian dog response! She was a master at creating meaningful memories for her family, many of which took place in that house.

My senior year in college, I returned to Moscow and attended University of Idaho on exchange. While it was fun reconnecting with my roots, I regret not spending more time with family -- I was just a busy college student. I remember thinking then, as I visited my grandparents' home, that I didn't know what I would do once they and that house were gone. It was such a painful thought that I could hardly bear it. Isn't it funny that even though we know something will be inevitable at some point, we still think we can avoid it if we just bury it in the recesses of our brains? I knew this day would come, and now it has. As my mom and I drove to Moscow last week, I was crying so hard that I was hyperventilating. It took a great deal of effort just to keep breathing deeply and to not burst into tears multiple times a day.

I knew I had two choices: to face this pain and feel it, which would lead to God's healing, or to stuff it and refuse to accept it, which would lead to unresolved hurt and who knows what else. I took a video and many pictures of the house, which I know will help once the memories begin to fade and I fear that I will forget what it looked like. My relatives were all grieving in their own ways, but we worked together and laughed together. It was a special time that I believed bonded our family in a beautiful way. I never had a chance to go through the healthy, natural steps of grieving when my mom's parents' house burned, and now I had that opportunity.

I'm grateful to still have Grandma, and to be able to visit her in Seattle in the future. I know that the deaths I am facing right now are my Grandpa's, and the death of future memories and experiences in the house they shared for over 50 years. But out of death often comes new life, and I am reminded that people are the true treasures, not physical places or possessions. I know that our family will have to work harder to connect and be more intentional about strengthening our relationships, but I'm looking forward to it.

I'm not done crying over the loss, nor will I be tomorrow. But I want to go through the grieving process in a healthy way. Only God can fill the empty places in our hearts, and bring beauty out of the ashes of our lives.

There is a time for everything,


and a season for every activity under heaven:


a time to be born and a time to die,


a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,


a time to tear down and a time to build,


a time to weep and a time to laugh,


a time to mourn and a time to dance,


a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,


a time to embrace and a time to refrain,


a time to search and a time to give up,


a time to keep and a time to throw away...

Ecclesiastes 3:1-6
 

Goodbye.

"Plans have changed"

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve experienced three different instances in which plans have changed, resulting in varying levels of disappointment. I may seem to handle them maturely on the outside, but inside I have felt like throwing myself down on the ground and pitching a fit worthy of a cranky three-year-old.

The first situation involved postponing plans to travel to Europe this fall. The idea for the trip had surfaced back in the summer of 2008 while I was in China. Since it takes time to save money and accumulate enough vacation time, 2010 sounded like the perfect year to go.

Yet ever since I started dialoging with a friend last fall about it, I’ve understood that plans could change on a dime: what if I lose my job? What if my car decides to call it quits? You can tell yourself that you are holding something loosely, but the true test comes when you actually have to let it go, even if it is only temporarily.

A few weeks ago, reality began to set in. Since I started dreaming about the trip, I’ve accepted the invitations to be a bridesmaid in two weddings this year, both out of town (and one in another country). I’ve also started a long and expensive process of getting a tooth implant. If I tried to still travel to Europe, there would be no margin -- no emergency fund. Not wise. My travel buddy was in agreement -- we wait until next spring.

Next, I heard the sad news that the June 12th U2 concert was postponed until next year because of Bono’s back surgery. Completely understandable, yet still very disappointing. I’ve only been waiting to see U2 in concert since high school, for crying out loud! I guess I can wait yet another year, but…sigh.

At least I can get back into cake decorating this summer, since I have a break from school, I thought. I signed up to take a Fondant and Gum Paste class and bought all of the materials. Lo and behold, the morning of the first day of class, I learned that they cancelled the class because fell one person short of the minimum class size. I’m ashamed to admit that it ruined my entire day. Come on! I don’t want to wait to take it -- I have free time now. (Cue another inner tantrum.)

Of course, these seem to be pretty minor compared to the major disappointments many people have to struggle with: loss of job, prolonged singleness, divorce, childlessness. I don’t want to minimize those very valid areas of pain. However, the minor things are not insignificant --perhaps they are more easily dismissed. You might give yourself permission to grieve a huge disappointment, but not acknowledge the smaller ones. Until they build up, that is.

Then I think, how often we set ourselves up for these situations when we make all these plans and then somehow think they will automatically succeed? Scriptures say “In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9) and “Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails” (Proverbs 19:21). We build up our expectations and then hold onto them as if we are entitled to them.

For me, these recent situations were a good reminder that I am not in control of my life. It’s good to make plans and be intentional with your life, as long as you acknowledge that God has His own plans and can take us in a different direction. They don’t always make sense to us in our finite minds, but you can see His hand so many times in those “aha” moments after the fact.

Last Saturday, when I was supposed to be at the outdoor U2 concert, it rained constantly and the high for the day was in the 50s -- what a fun concert that would have been! Instead, I went to a healing conference in Denver that completely blew my mind (another blog post entirely). If the concert had not been cancelled, who’s to say that I would have made it to that conference where I learned and experienced so much? I love those gentle reminders from God that He sees our hurts and broken plans, but He always knows what He is doing.

The Female Dynamics of Insecurity

This post is going to be geared more toward women, so I apologize if any men are reading. Perhaps you will gain some insight into the female mind!

Life has been busy, and unfortunately, my blog has been neglected as a result. But fresh with revelation after attending Beth Moore's simulcast yesterday, I just couldn't help but sit down and pour out some of my thoughts. Beth Moore is one of my favorite Christian authors and speakers, and lest you think I'm some kind of Beth groupie, I have to say it's because she has such a passion for digging into the Bible and revealing God's heart through His Word. Probably a few other people think the same, given that there were 300,000 women attending this simulcast event across North America.

The topic: content from Beth's new book, So Long, Insecurity. The joke was, if you're struggling with insecurity, are you going to feel secure enough to buy a book with that title, or even attend an event like this? So, am I secure enough to write a blog post about my own issues with it?   :-) I know insecurity is a problem for every human being to some extent, but for women it can be rampant and insidious. The sad thing is, it becomes so natural and seemingly part of who you are, you don't always realize that you are insecure. You become an expert at masking it and managing it. I went into the simulcast thinking that there were very few areas in which I was insecure, and since then, God has been revealing more all the time. I've just never identified them before, I guess (except when it comes to writing this blog - as I've mentioned before, this is an area of extreme insecurity for me. But I'm overcoming it word by word!).

I'm glad Beth decided to address this subject, because it is a struggle for so many women. I believe in Christian circles there can be a whole other layer of insecurity based on how good of a Christian woman you are, or at least how you appear to be. We Christians tend to think we have to plaster on a fake smile all the time, right? We think that if we're not perfect, we're defaming the name of Jesus or something, forgetting that Jesus was the only perfect human to walk this earth. It's simply not all right that the people who should be the most devoted to pursuing truth can be the ones most eager to put up a front of perfect living. Anyway, I digress.

Looking around at the hundreds of other women crammed into the church sanctuary yesterday, I had to smile. There is something about women's events: retreats, brunches, bridal and baby showers, you name it -- we feel like we need to look our best. We dress up in our cutest outfits, make sure to do our hair, and take extra care with our makeup. Case in point: I changed clothes several times before deciding on an outfit yesterday. I put on eyeliner, which is rare. Then we drove to the church (even though it is literally a block away from the house) because we didn't want the wind to mess up our hair. Mind you that there are no men around at these events, yet we women primp oftentimes more for each other than we would for men. A curious phenomenon, and I think it can at least partially be attributed to insecurity.

Women are always sizing each other up, for the good and the bad. No one wants to show up for a women's event wearing frumpy gray sweats, because she would feel judged and looked down upon. But every woman wants to hear her friends compliment her new shoes or earrings or whatnot. Now, I'm not saying that all women are petty by any means -- women tend to love showering compliments on each other, and who would want to miss out on that? But the deeper issue can be this lingering feeling of inadequacy among women -- there's always another person who has a better body, stronger family, deeper spirituality, and we can never measure up to them. It ties back to the comparison game, many times. We crave a certain validation from other women that affirms our femininity.

Here's a confession of mine: while it might be pathetic, it is honest, and I believe many others can relate. As a single woman, I can't express how uncomfortable I can feel in a mixed group of women. I think that so much "womanhood" is associated with the role of wife and mother that I feel like I'm an outsider looking into some exclusive "club." Like I don't "belong" because I'm not married and I don't have kids. So when I go to an event like this, I always notice those who are wearing wedding rings, and those who are not. It helps me gauge where I stand in the crowd. If there are a majority of single women like myself, I feel at more at ease. If there are more married women, I feel like more of a circus freak. And I hope that they won't notice I'm single or start with the well-meaning "I can't believe you don't have a boyfriend" spiel.  

I recall a few years ago experiencing a bit of a "light bulb" moment. I was in a small group with two close friends who had recently married. They made a comment that they felt inadequate compared to other women because even though they were married, they had no children. There seemed to be a huge disconnect between "childless" women and mothers, not unlike the common disconnect between married and single women. From what they had observed, it didn't stop there. Once you had children, then you started comparing them to other's children (who walked sooner, who got their black belt in karate, etc.). So in the world of women, there always seems to be some kind of one-upmanship -- and it can just keep spiraling downward if you don't try to counteract it. Otherwise, where does it end? Not in a good place, for sure.

It begs the question -- why are we so concerned about what others think of us? What other women think of us? Are we that needy that we have to secure our "place" in society or gain other's approval in order to think better of ourselves? I know that I will be the most secure when I am looking to God to meet these needs and not to others. And I will feel the most alive when I strive to become who God created me to be and to accept my uniqueness and design instead of trying to become someone else. But to beat back the forces of insecurity by refusing to cater to it -- that's going to take, as Beth said, some serious intentionality. A good challenge for all of us women.

Is your next passion sitting on the back burner?

Do you ever feel like in the busyness of life, you're always putting things on the back burner? As in, someday I'd like to learn how to paint, when I have the time. "The time" is an undetermined point in the future that can be weeks, months, years, or never. How many times does this thing always stay on the "back burner" and never come to fruition?

For years, I had wanted to take a cake decorating class. I missed an opportunity to take one right before I moved to Colorado Springs, and then I never got around to doing it once I relocated. Last winter, I was experiencing a bit of a lull -- no exciting trips to plan, not much going on. And I remembered how much I wanted to take cake decorating, so I used Christmas money and signed up for a class at Hobby Lobby, a nearby craft store.

I ended up taking two 4-week courses in a row, and ended up unearthing a new favorite hobby! I learned how to make borders, roses, basketweave, you name it. And I also started learning more about baking cakes -- what makes them fall apart, what makes them moist, how can you add ingredients to cake mixes to make delicious flavors. Before I knew it, I was making cakes for friends and family: birthdays, bridal showers, baby showers, graduations.

I realized that by doing cake decorating, I was combining several of my passions:

• I love baking and enjoy the challenge of trying new recipes.
• I reconnect with my artistic side by creating new and unique cake designs.
• I enjoy blessing people with cakes in their honor (gift giving and acts of service are my love languages).

Now, why didn't I do this years ago? If I had known how much joy I would receive, and give to others, perhaps I would have. But you never know until you take the initiative to pull things off the back burner. What is on your back burner right now? Is it time to just take the plunge and do it?

Next on my horizon? I just might take up the violin. One of these days.

The Post-Oscar Blahs

My dad and I used to watch the Academy Awards together every year, and when I was younger I would often daydream of becoming a famous actress and someday receiving an Oscar. I'm sure I wasn't the only kid to rehearse her acceptance speech in front of the mirror on more than one occasion (some of you probably still do this!). And I figured if I made sure to thank God, He'd be even more willing to pave my way to the red carpet. I wonder how many award winners mention God in their speeches due to a bargain they made like this, anyway :-)

Inside each one of us is a desire to be recognized and appreciated, hence the fanfare of all these award shows (and our unrealistic daydreams). And, of course, we also secretly long to be the BEST. We're drawn to award shows not just to watch the movie clips or make fun of fashion nightmares (ahem, can you say J. Lo?) -- at some level, all of us can relate to Hollywood's desire to puff itself up and seek approval. As I watched the Oscars last night, I wondered what was on the minds of the nominees in the room. For many, an Oscar represents the pinnacle of their career -- the ultimate prize that validates their identity, and then gathers dust in the display case while they glory about their past triumph. What happens if they don't win, or even if they do win? Can a little gold statue really do all that they hope it will?

Some years back, I went on a trip to Hollwood to do some prayer walking with my church. We partnered with a really cool ministry called The Hollywood Prayer Network, and the president said something that really struck me. She explained that the day after the Oscars is the darkest day in Hollywood. Those who didn't win an award feel like failures, which is an understandable response to disappointment. However, those who did win are struck with the thought of "I finally got an Oscar. Is this all there is?" There's no where to go but down when so much emphasis is placed on some symbol of recognition. After they get home at 5 am from their post-Oscar parties and the hype is all over, what do they do?

This begs the question, what is your dream? And what would you do if it were achieved? It would certainly provide a temporary euphoria, but what then? There's nothing wrong with dreaming big and wanting to achieve goals -- but there is something wrong with the belief that it will be enough. We're setting ourselves up for disappointment if our identity is based on what we do.

At this year's Academy Awards, something really stuck out at me. For the best actor and actress presentations, they invited one of the nominees' colleagues to say something about that person. My favorite was Michelle Pfeiffer's encouraging words to Jeff Bridges, who was later announced as the winner. I just thought, I would rather have the encouraging and uplifting words of a friend any day instead of a silly trophy, even if it is made of gold. There may have only been one winner, but each person was able to leave that theatre with those words on his or her heart. A good reminder of how important it is to build each other up.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the Oscars. What were your impressions of the actors and actresses there?

The Immeasurable Value of Forgiveness

Forgiveness. The concept can make some people cringe, and others cry for joy -- I guess it depends on whether you're on the receiving end or not. It's human nature to struggle with forgiving others when they've wronged you. Some of us have a difficult time receiving forgiveness from someone else or even being able to forgive ourselves.

Let's face it -- we've all hurt other people by our words, actions, or inactions. Could you imagine a world where no one forgave each other? Talk about unpleasant, if not downright unlivable. It stands to reason that if we would want others to let us off the hook for our mistakes, we should do the same. If you've been to church or picked up a Bible recently, you probably know that forgiveness is a central theme of the Christian faith. Jesus tells us to forgive men when they sin against us, so that God will forgive us. I love how he compares forgiving someone with canceling a debt that is owed.

I've heard authors and Bible teachers liken unforgiveness to a cage that traps both the victim and the perpetator. The victim believes that by not forgiving, she holds some kind of power over the person who hurt her. "But he doesn't deserve my forgiveness" or "she hasn't even apologized" become excuses to hold on to this pain. What the victim doesn't realize is that this plan always backfires, and she becomes a prisoner in a self-made prison. She has an illusion of control over the situation, but it's really just a sham.

We often believe that we can only truly forgive if we feel like forgiving. I'm not quite ready yet, we tell ourselves. But if we wait for our emotions to dictate when to take this step, we lose valuable time in which we could be enjoying the release and freedom that comes from letting it all go ...and who's to say we would ever reach that point, at least not before bitterness and anger seep into our souls and slowly destroy us.

That's why forgiveness should be based on a choice, not a feeling. I know this is not a new concept, but we forget this so often. Emotions are fickle, people! We inevitably make poor decisions when we rely on our feelings to guide us. It's like love -- we may not always feel love for someone, but we still choose to love them. It's an act of the will. When we make the determination to choose forgiveness, the feelings come later. They really do.

Case in point -- some years ago, I felt betrayed by some people who I thought cared for me. I met this couple -- we'll call them Mr. and Mrs. Smith, for lack of a more original name (and no, they did not resemble Brangelina). I was drawn to their charisma and leadership, and I grew to respect and trust them quite a bit as we developed a friendship. They really made me feel valued and welcomed, and would compliment and encourage me...until everything changed overnight.

A conflict emerged between them and another group, and I was pulled into the middle. Mr. and Mrs. Smith wanted me to do one thing. The "other side" wanted me to do something else. I was in an impossible place in which either way I would upset someone. So, I decided to remove myself from this volatile situation. When I didn't act as their pawn, the Smiths cut off contact with me. As if that wasn't enough, they spread nasty lies about me and maligned me to some of our mutual friends. It was probably the strongest attack against my character that I've ever encountered, and I was caught completely off-guard. This couple whom I had trusted had turned on me, and seemed to have been "wolves in sheep's clothing" the whole time.

This betrayal wounded me deeply and had come on the heels of several other difficult circumstances in the past several months. I would sit in church and just feel completely numb and detached. It was a dark time. On some level, I wanted to forgive the Smiths, but it just seemed so impossible. Perhaps nine months later, I ran into the Smiths in a video rental store and an emotional breakdown followed. The pain was still very real, as was the paranoia that I would see them again in the future.

Time heals a lot, and I felt after a year-and-a-half went by that I had forgiven them. Then my small group started a study on offense, and it revealed an even deeper layer of unforgiveness toward the Smiths. I committed to continually making the choice to forgive. It was a decision I made every time the memory of them or of the situation would pop up. After a while, I no longer even thought about them.

Almost three years after the incident, I was swimming at the YMCA with my friend. As usual, we made a beeline for the jacuzzi after our workout. As I walked into the room, my eyes immediately locked on a couple in the hot tub -- it was the Smiths! They had seen me, so there was no way to back-pedal from there without looking obvious. I went into the hot tub and we started an amiable conversation. The amazing thing was, they no longer had any hold on me. I didn't feel the sting of pain or the panic that I had experienced before. I was confident and composed. It wasn't until we left the Y that I realized how significant that moment was for me.

I had chosen to forgive them, even when I didn't feel like it. And the feelings of forgiveness really did follow. I was no longer in a cage where I could continue to be tormented -- I was free! It didn't matter if they deserved my forgiveness or not. I was obedient to God, and it blessed me in turn.

It was only a year later that the same friend who was with me at the YMCA that day heard that a family member had been brutally murdered. In the midst of her grief, she told me that she didn't know how she could ever forgive her loved one's killer. Now, that offense was much greater than my own had been, but I knew from experience that forgiveness is possible when you're willing to make that choice. I reminded her of the miracle I experienced with the Smiths, and encouraged her that if she was willing to make the choice, God would meet her right there. 

If any of you are wrestling with this issue, I pray that God empowers you and gives you strength and courage to take the next step -- the step of forgiveness that leads to freedom!

On being a perfectionist

I've always had a bit of a perfectionist tendency, but there are certain things that trigger it. For example, I don't seem to mind if my room looks like a clothing and paperwork bomb went off. I'm only slightly bothered when my car looks like a hodgepodge of books, dirty dishes, CD cases, and ice skates.

However, ask me to pick out a Hallmark card for someone and I'm immobilized. Is it too serious? Too sappy? Not the right kind of humor? Should it have a Bible verse or not? And, what if it's the perfect card for your mom, but it's addressed to Mother (which you only use when you're mad at her -- therefore, not appropriate in a greeting card). I also tend to kick into some crazy hyper-conscientiousness mode when I'm trying to find just the perfect gift. It's my M.O. I finally figured out that it's because gift-giving is one of my love languages. It's how I show love, so it's got to be just right.

Usually I stop myself before it gets out of hand, but only after it's caused some frustration and exhaustion. Recently I found another trigger for my crazy perfectionism -- school. After being out of college for almost 9 years now, I forgot about that pressure to do well and get good grades. I started taking an economics class several weeks ago to fill in some missing social studies credits (that's a whole other blog entry).

I told myself that it didn't really matter if I got did well -- I just need those three credits. It wasn't long before I kicked into high gear: I must get an A+ in this class!  The fact that macroeconomics isn't exactly my strong suit made me even more determined. There's nothing wrong with wanting to achieve excellence, but there's definitely a problem when you think that it it defines you.

A main struggle during my college years was to not look to grades and success as reflections of my self-worth. My parents never did this to me by communicating high expectations -- I did it to myself. And that's what concerns me now -- that I'll slip back down that slope and think that some silly grade in a class means anything in the long run. I suppose I'm saying this so that I have some accountability, but also to remind myself that while achievement is great, perfectionist can rob you of so much.

So I'm sitting in Borders blogging instead of writing an econ paper (that isn't even due for another week). So take that, hyper-perfectionism!

The Comparison Game

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly discontent can insidiously creep into your life. One day, you may feel fine, and out of nowhere something triggers it. Perhaps it’s been there under the surface for a while, percolating, and then it boils over -- a vivid reminder that, in comparison to someone else’s life, you’re hopelessly stuck or underperforming.

I recently found myself in a situation where I was with friends who had moved forward in a certain area of their lives…and I was still stuck in the same old place with no visible progress. I might not have been so aware of my lack of progress if I hadn’t met with these friends, yet I went home moping and feeling sorry for myself. After a healthy dose of self pity, I pulled myself out of the funk by reminding myself that God has a different plan for me. If I try to measure my life according to the standards of everyone else’s life, I am going to constantly feel discontent.

Whether it’s about marriage, kids, job, calling, or fill-in-the-blank, someone is always going to seem to have it better than you and me. Their timeline might look way more appealing than ours. Their situation may seem easier. You think, God, why are they getting all of the blessing here? Pretty soon, we’ve got a full-blown jealousy situation on our hands.

When we get sucked into the comparison game, we forfeit the wonderful peace that comes from that overwhelming feeling that we are smack-dab in the middle of God’s will. Instead of feeling comfortable in our own circumstances and rejoicing in the season in which God has us, we focus on everything we don’t have. And the list can grow long. Too long, in fact, to see the blessings right in front of us.

I wish I could see my life through God’s eyes, and I understand why He does what He does. Why does He give some people who we would consider undeserving the things we want, and withhold them from us? What unseen factors are going on here that I’m not aware of?

That same weekend I hung out with these friends, one of my close friends got engaged. Talk about adding fuel to the fire! I was happy for her, but this was the last straw. I cried on the phone with my mom for an hour, and she reminded me that God has done some wonderful things in my life, and that He's preparing me for other things as we speak. It's as if a spirit of thankfulness returned to me as I reflected upon God's faithfulness. Now, when I'm feeling frustrated, I'm going remind myself to read my journals to remember all that He's done for me.

I'm back!

I’m ashamed to say that after more than three months after I created this blog, I am finally writing my second post! I have no excuses, except for the holidays, a vacation in a foreign country, an economics class, and perhaps still some hesitancy about the idea of my writing being out there for the world to see.

In my early strategizing, I decided I would wait until I had at least several semi-brilliant posts up until I advertised my blog to friends and family. The result: pretty much all accountability went out the window. It became way too easy to procrastinate, even after getting a new laptop (which was supposed to propel me into writing bliss, but rather managed to lure me into the world of playing Mah Jong and Beweled constantly during the first month I owned it).

I was so embarrassed by my procrastination that I contemplated removing my first post, and then re-posting it with a February date. Sneaky, huh? J Since no one knew my blog existed before, the evidence against me would disappear into the World Wide Abyss. Except that wouldn’t do -- if you’re going to read this blog, you’ll have to just accept me the way I am. Transparent. Imperfect. And more than susceptible to a late-night game of Mah Jong instead of writing!